Save The Last Dance
by Lily Anna Evans Potter
Summary: 7.15 missing moment: What if Clay & Nathan had made it back to Tree Hill High in time for the dance? Their delay triggers Quinn's bad prom memories and she hits the bar a bit too hard. Clay wants nothing more than to make this a memorable night for her, but faces unexpected Willie Nelson-shaped demons on the dancefloor. CQ, QH with Laley / Clara flashbacks & more.
1. Save The Last Dance

**Save The Last Dance**

Her husband's disappointing voice-mail was still ringing in her ears when excitable knocks at the front door drew Haley James Scott out of bed and down the stairs that morning. Her older sister Quinn practically bounced over the threshold into the house, giving Haley's baggy pajamas a judgmental glance. "You're not going to the dance dressed like that, are you?" the tall brunette asked after a quick kiss of greeting.

"Some of us just rolled out of bed," the younger James girl protested. "And my wakeup call wasn't exactly great motivation to get dolled up."

"What do you mean?" Quinn frowned, switching the plastic bag she was holding from one hand to the other, making the contents rattle mysteriously. "I brought my curling iron," she beamed proudly at Haley's questioning stare. "Here's to completing my life-long desire to crimp my hair."

"You really need to re-think that life goal, sweetie," Haley told her with an affectionate eye-roll.

"All for the good of the arts," Quinn shot back. "The more we look the part, the more money will come in at the fundraiser. That totally wasn't the point though, what was this discouraging wakeup call about?" she pressed curiously.

"It was Nathan," Haley sighed. "He said they ran into some car trouble so he and Clay are stuck in Atlanta." She watched her sister's bubbly grin fade slightly at the news and added unnecessarily; "That means it's up to us to impress at Tree Hill High tonight, seeing as they probably won't make it home in time for the dance."

"That sucks turtle eggs," Quinn pouted.

"Turtle eggs? Really?" Haley shook her head, biting her lip to suppress a giggle.

"Is Brooke coming to the dance tonight?" Quinn asked, swiftly changing the subject.

"I have no idea; things between her and Julian have been really tense lately. I don't think she's too happy about Alex being such a big part of his new movie," said her sister with a shrug. "Quit changing the subject, face the fact that you're a huge dork."

"Proud of it, babe," Quinn winked at her and started up the stairs. "Clay loved the turtle eggs thing, just saying. Later, Hales, I'm commandeering your mirror now."

"That's because he can be even dorkier than you…really says something by the way," Haley called after her and turned away with a smile at the sound of her sister's chuckles fading away up the staircase. Ten minutes later, Jamie came charging down the stairs, wide-eyed and with even his usual bedhead looking abnormally wild. "Good morning, sunshine," Haley greeted him cheerfully with a kiss on the forehead as she served up a plate of waffles. "Why do you look like you've just seen a ghost?"

"I saw Aunt Quinn," Jamie gasped, obviously still processing a major shock. "She jumped on me to wake me up and her hair was pimped!"

"I hope you mean crimped," Haley corrected seriously, but her eyes were sparkling with amusement.

"That's right, crimped…half-crimped, actually." Jamie shuddered at the memory, still looking positively horrified.

"At least now you'll have a fun story to share with Junk and Fergie tonight," Haley laughed as Jamie's wide eyes rolled in exasperation. "Be good, okay?"

"Mom, I'm seven," he protested.

"And I refuse to be arrested for child neglect," she shot back readily. "Your Aunt Brooke calls me Jailey as it is. Deal with it, little man." With that, she nodded at his plate of waffles and started up the stairs. "Eat up, I'm going to see if Aunt Quinn needs a hand getting ready."

"Love you, Mom," Jamie called after her in resignation and Haley blew him a kiss before she too vanished up the stairs.

"Incoming," said Haley in a sing-song voice when she nudged the door to the master bedroom open on the upper floor. "You traumatized my kid," she informed Quinn, stepping into the room and pushing the door shut again behind her. Her sister was standing in front of the dresser, yanking at the cable of the curling iron in her hand with a frustrated grimace. "You want some help with that?" Haley offered, approaching Quinn with an amused look on her face. "The back can be tricky."

"It's like junior prom all over again," the fidgety brunette groaned, slamming the curling iron down on the dresser and flopping onto her back on Nathan and Haley's bed. "I mean, what's the point of this effort if our men can't even make it to the dance?" Staring blankly up at the ceiling, she released a quavering sigh; "It's not fair."

"Hey, I thought I was the Debbie Downer here since Nathan's message earlier," Haley joked, but the faint smile slipped away at the pure disappointment on her sister's face. "What's gotten into you, Q? We're gonna rock this fundraiser, with or without Nathan and Clay. Obviously, it's unfortunate, but it's not like they're missing out on purpose."

"I know that…I guess I just wanted one perfect dance," Quinn sighed and sat up, biting down on her quivering lower lip. "Junior prom was the night Dan Thomson dumped me hours before the dance, as Taylor so generously reminded me at dinner the other night. I suppose I was kind of hoping for a better sort of prom-related memory."

"Come here, you big sap," said Haley firmly and dragged her sister to her feet and back over to the mirror above the dresser. "You listen to me, alright? We don't need our men as an excuse to look totally hot and bring in that funding tonight, do we?" She pressed a kiss to the shoulder of Quinn's lacy top and squeezed her sister tightly, before reaching for the curling iron. "Now hand that thing over and let's get this show on the road."

"You're right," said Quinn faintly, smiling reluctantly at her pink-cheeked reflection. "Sorry, I know I'm being silly. You make everything better, Hales, you know that?"

"You're not silly, you're a…what is it Mom calls you? A heart girl, isn't it?" Haley corrected her affectionately. "Dan Thomson was an idiot and missed out on a great night, I'll have you know. I have a feeling Clay would never willingly do anything of the sort. They might make it back in time with a bit of luck, no point getting into a sulk now."

"You're never going to let Dan off the hook for what he did, are you?" Quinn asked and now there was the hint of a sparkle back in her pale blue eyes. "It kind of reminds me of that night. We managed to have a pretty good time in spite of him."

"We sure did," Haley agreed, then she attacked the back of Quinn's head with the curling tongs and thoughtful silence fell between the sisters.

 _June 2001 – Prom Night_

 _It was mid-June, the day of Tree Hill High's junior prom and Karen's Café had been experiencing an unusual rush of customers desperate for cold drinks and ice cream all day. Karen Roe had even had her thirteen-year-old son Lucas and his best friend Haley helping to wait tables in the mad rush. The crowds did finally subside, but her two young helpers were still running on such adrenaline that Karen saw her son visibly flinch when a teenage girl in a sparkly sequined top burst through the door, making the bells overhead tinkle at her entrance. He was still staring at her when Haley dropped the rag she'd been using to scrub a table where someone had spilled a smoothie. "Oh my God! Quinnie, what happened?"  
_

 _Lucas' jaw dropped while Haley attempted to steer her shaking older sister into a chair. "Wow, Quinn…you look, uh…" he babbled, not even noticing Haley roll her eyes at him.  
_

 _"Not good enough for Dan Thomson," the sixteen-year-old finished for him, her voice trembling pathetically.  
_

 _"I was going to say very pretty actually," Lucas corrected, pulling up the chair opposite her. "What happened?"  
_

 _"He dumped me, Haley," Quinn choked, running her fingers through her crimped curls in agitation and flinching when her nails got stuck. "Dan decided at the last minute he doesn't want to go to prom with me. It's tonight and I don't have a date anymore. Damn it!"  
_

 _"Oh Quinn," her sister sighed. "Here, hold still for a second." Quinn buried her face in her hands and Lucas watched her awkwardly while Haley darted purposefully into the backroom. Moments later she returned with a hairbrush in her hand. "I keep it in my bag," she explained at Lucas' amazed stare. "You never know when it might come in handy. I am still a girl, you know."  
_

 _"Point taken," said Lucas and turned to watch while Haley positioned herself behind Quinn and began brushing the manufactured tangles out of her sister's hair. "That looks like it hurts."  
_

 _"I want to hurt Dan," Haley growled under her breath. "Boys are so dumb!"  
_

 _"Hey," Lucas protested; "There's no need to generalize, Hales. Dan Thomson is dumb, that's all."  
_

 _"Yeah," she mumbled angrily; "Sorry Luke, I'm just pissed off at that idiot."  
_

" _I can see that," Lucas laughed, stopping when she glared at him. He gazed out the window for a moment, observing the dull streets of Tree Hill's hazy summer afternoon instead. "Hopefully you can cool that temper and quit generalizing for at least me and your brothers," he said eventually.  
_

 _"What do my brothers have to do with anything?" asked Haley, smoothing out the last of the unfortunate curls.  
_

 _"Isn't that Nick's car?" said Lucas, pointing out the window to where a black Kia had just screeched to a halt in front of the café.  
_

 _Still squeezing Quinn's fingers consolingly, Haley turned to see what he was talking about and beamed; "What a nice surprise, Quinnie look!"  
_

 _Wiping her eyes, Quinn turned just as the bell over the café's front door tinkled again and their middle brother Nick walked in. "You James' sure know how to make an entrance," Lucas remarked while the girls bounded from their chairs to hug their brother.  
_

 _"This must be my lucky day, two for one special," the twenty-three-year-old laughed, one arm around each of his sisters. "Hey, Luke. Is your Mom around? I'm a little desperate!"  
_

 _"I'll just get her," said Lucas, getting obligingly to his feet. "Good to see you, Nicky."  
_

 _"You too," said Nick absently, busy looking Quinn up and down. "Interesting fashion choices, Q," he commented, frowning when her lips began to quiver. "Hey, did I say something wrong?"  
_

 _"It's junior prom tonight," Haley told him. "Quinn's date just told her last minute he doesn't want to go with her. That explains the look and the tears."  
_

 _"Oh man," said their brother sympathetically. Haley stepped aside so that he could hug Quinn properly. "I'm sorry, Q. Do I need to kill somebody?"  
_

 _"I wonder what Laura would have to say about that," replied Quinn with a half-hearted smile, the words muffled as her face pressed against his chest.  
_

 _"Yeah, probably not such a great idea actually," he admitted, squeezing her harder anyway.  
_

 _"What are you doing here anyway, dude?" asked Haley curiously and her brother rolled his eyes.  
_

 _"Ice cream," he said simply; "Laura insisted she had to have Karen's ice cream."  
_

 _"You drove two hours from Raleigh for ice cream?" Quinn said incredulously. "What's the point? It'll be goo by the time you get home in this weather."  
_

 _"I'm not stupid enough to argue with an eight months pregnant woman, sis," he said simply. "What Laura wants she gets. Hopefully, Karen will have a cooler or something handy."_

" _Karen's pretty handy that way," Haley assured him. "She'll figure something out, don't worry." She perched at the piano in the corner of the room and her siblings stared at her curiously. "I'm overdue for a practice, why don't you dance with Quinn since her date is a moron?"  
_

 _Nick looked at Quinn, now with her mascara smudged rather pitifully; "You want to?" he asked. "I'm a little out of practice but if it makes your night suck less, my honor."  
_

 _"Seriously?" said Quinn hopefully and when he nodded she threw herself at him so hard she almost knocked him flat. "Thanks, Nicky, missed you so much."  
_

 _"Back at you, Quinnie-Bear," he said softly, swaying in time with Haley's tinkling piano tune and that was how Lucas and Karen found them when they returned with enough ice cream to feed an army._

"Kind of funny, isn't it?" said Quinn when her sister finally laid down the curling tongs and stepped back to admire her handiwork. "When Dan dumped me that prom night you helped me get the stupid curls out of my hair and now here you are perfecting them. You really are gifted, Haley Bob."

"Funny, Clay says the same thing about you," Haley replied. "Since it's your questionable life goal, might as well do it right, don't you think? You look hot, Quinnie."

"Too bad the chances of Nicky swooping in tonight are zero if Clay and Nathan don't make it home," her sister sighed.

"They'll make it," said Haley confidently, looping her arms around Quinn from behind. "Cheer up, we'll have fun, I promise."

 _A few hours later – Tree Hill High Dance_

Quinn dropped into one of the vacant barstools in the corner of Tree Hill High's transformed gym hall, wiggling her toes as best as possible in the stylish lace-up boots she had been so enthusiastic about a few hours ago. TRIC's supposedly psychic bartender Grubbs turned to her with his trademark kindly smile; "Hey Quinn, what can I get you?"

"A way to get the lipstick graffiti off my windshield maybe?" she muttered. "Or magically get my boyfriend here right now, one of the two. I can't even hate that bitch Kylie anymore, it's not fair."

"That all sounds a little out of my wheelhouse," he mused. "You need a strong…something clearly." She barely watched as he turned away and poured something into a shot glass for her, too lost in bitter thoughts. "Try this," said the scruffy bartender after a few moments of concentrated preparation, placing the little shot glass in front of her. "The quick burn will distract you from whatever's bothering you."

"You make it sound like a workout," said Quinn, eyeing the glass warily. "The fate of my night is in your hands, Mr. Psychic Bartender. Cheers!" She raised the shot glass in his direction glumly before tipping the contents down her throat. "Whoa!" Her eyes squeezed shut as the glass collided with the makeshift bar counter; "Nice work Grubbster, that's a definite burn."

"Grubbster?" he laughed; "Well that didn't take much, did it? I hope your boyfriend shows up in time, shame to miss all this." He gestured expansively at their themed décor; "This place looks amazing. As a former band geek, I never thought I could enjoy being back in high school but tonight has been fun."

"Speak for yourself," Quinn groaned; "When Cheap Trick got up on stage I said everyone should have a totally tubular time on the freaking mic. What the hell does that even mean?"

Grubbs was raising his bushy eyebrows infuriatingly at her; "Can't help you with that one either I'm afraid," he shrugged. "Another shot maybe?"

"Why the hell not?" she sighed. "If I get drunk enough I won't have to go home in my own car with the word slut all over it in lipstick. Win-win, right?" But the bartender was staring over her shoulder now, the next shot glass poised in mid-air. "Dude, what are you staring…ahh!" Next second a pair of warm hands pressed over Quinn's eyes from behind and she scrambled to her feet, prepared to yell at whoever dared interrupt her moping. But the tirade died on her lips at the sight of Clay standing before her with his trademark crooked grin in place. "You made it," she said in a stunned whisper. "Oh my God, hi!"

"Did you really doubt I would?" he smirked. "Nathan literally bought a car off a lady we were trying to hitch a hike home with, lucky she was a Bobcats fan."

"That's insane," she said in a muffled voice, her face pressed against the smooth leather of his jacket. "Mmm, I was so afraid you wouldn't come in time."

"What, and miss all this?" Clay said incredulously, staring up at the glittering disco ball in the middle of the ceiling above their heads. "The place looks incredible, babe."

"And yet some unfortunate girl's locker will have a chunk of blonde hair stuck in the door come Monday," Quinn laughed, the events of the night suddenly seeming ridiculous now that she was back in Clay's arms.

"Say what?" The puzzled look on his face just cracked Quinn up harder and before long she was laughing too hard to breathe, let alone speak. "Q, are you drunk?"

"No," Quinn gasped, breathless from her outburst already. "Grubbs just got me to take one…just one shot because I thought you wouldn't come." Clay glared at the helplessly shrugging bartender, but Quinn was still talking. "And part of me wanted to get drunk enough that someone else would have to drive me home. Kylie very kindly wrote slut on my windshield…in lipstick! Can you believe that?"

She nestled against his chest, swaying in time to the music and Clay was too stunned to dwell on just how drunk she may or may not have been. "What the hell is Kylie doing here?" he wondered out loud.

"That one I can actually answer," the bartender chipped in, sounding almost proud of the fact. "The hot blonde, right? She's here with Mouth…had quite a showdown with your girl on the floor earlier."

"Oh man," Clay groaned, gently untangling Quinn's arms from around his neck and depositing her in a barstool. "Give Quinn something to eat, would you? I need to set Kylie straight…again."

From his vantage point near the bar, Clay scoured the sparsely occupied dancefloor. Haley was wrapped up in Nathan's arms, gazing lovingly into his eyes and the pair was clearly oblivious to the world around them. At the other end of the room, Alex stood near Brooke's new designer Alexander, the similarly named duo was ignoring each other even though it meant being wallflowers. The Australian man was staring contemplatively into his drink, so Clay decided the grudgingly sober actress was his best hope of locating Kylie. He crossed the dancefloor in purposeful strides, ignoring her grimace when he came to a halt in front of her. "It's about time you showed up," she sneered. "Quinn is so hammered over there, totally jealous."

"You would be, Miss I'll-Kiss-You-For-The-Taste-Of-Tequila," he retorted, in no mood for her games. "Listen, Dupré, have you seen Kylie? She's the reason Quinn needed that shot, she has a big piece of my mind coming. But seeing as I just got here I have no idea where to look."

"Ooh, so you're a tough guy now, huh?" Alex remarked dryly. "That Kylie chick has got to be your only lay that was more desperate than even me."

"Alex, please," he groaned, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her in frustration. "Have you seen her or not?"

"Well since you asked oh so nicely," she said at long last. "I hadn't actually seen Blondie until…right about now." The large door to the gymnasium had just creaked open and Kylie herself stepped into the room, clinging to the doorframe to keep from keeling over. "Damn, good luck getting anything useful out of that one. She looks like even more of a mess than Quinn. I'd save the protective boyfriend speech for when she'll actually remember it if I were you."

"You might have a point," he admitted reluctantly, watching with a disgusted expression as Mouth rushed over to catch his date before she collapsed in a drunken heap on the hard wooden floor. "Guess I'll get back to trying to sober Quinn up. She'll be so upset if she doesn't even remember the dance. Thanks anyway, Alex."

"You really love her, don't you?" said the brunette just as he turned to walk away, and for the first time, her tone wasn't mocking or sarcastic. Clay glanced at Nathan and Haley still swaying in unison on the dance floor and for the first time realized he didn't feel that usual pang of jealousy or feeling like a third wheel in their family.

"Yeah, I do," he said simply. "She's…everything."

"Guess I better find someone else to share tequila kisses with," she laughed. "That's the plan when I'm done explaining to pretty boy over there that you do not mess with Brooke and Julian, anyway." She rolled her eyes in Alexander's direction. "They finally left together after being convinced that Crocodile Dundee and I were a legit threat all night, idiots."

"Good for them, I guess," said Clay distractedly, glancing across the room at Quinn sitting on her barstool and staring up at the disco ball in wonder. "I should get back over there, see you around?"

"I'll be over here explaining the meaning of Brulian to this loser in all my sober glory," she said, looking disgusted at the prospect. "Seeya, Evans. Get your girl on the floor already!" Clay waved over his shoulder in acknowledgment, already half-way back across the room to Quinn. He had every intention of making every remaining moment of this night memorable for the girl he loved and wouldn't let Kylie or anyone else stop him.

 **A / N This was a one-shot idea I've had for years and now it's turning so long I decided to split it up into a two-shot. Enjoy everyone!**


	2. Crazy For You

**Crazy For You**

Clay was half-way across the dancefloor back to the bar, his gaze locked on Quinn's slightly dazed smile when the Journey ballad blasting from the sound system faded out. The next song began with the achingly familiar strum of an acoustic guitar and Clay froze. He found himself rooted to the spot by Willie Nelson's voice and memories of the last time this song, with its lifetime's worth of associations had been sprung on him, on one of the hardest days of his life.

 _July 2011 – Two Years Earlier_

 _Inside the church, Clay had last entered on his wedding day, the heat was stifling on that devastating July day. He sat between his mother and sister in the front row of the pews, closest to the raised platform the minister was now stepping down from. Then Sam took his place behind the podium, looking much older than his sixty-three years. Clay couldn't blame the man; this was the second time in just three years his in-laws would have to bury one of their children. Sam's haunted blue eyes found his wife's face in the crowd as he began to bravely deliver the eulogy and Clay turned to watch his mother-in-law instead, hardly able to bear the heartbreaking speech. Lil had eight-month-old Logan sleeping miraculously peacefully in her arms. Somehow the infant wasn't bothered by how his grandmother's wrinkled hands were visibly trembling as she clung to him with silent tears rolling down her face._

 _Lily's hand squeezing his arm unnecessarily hard forced Clay's attention back to the gut-wrenching eulogy. Sam was staring right at him now, sounding more emotionally spent with every word coming out of his mouth. "As unbearable as it is," he was saying; "this isn't the first time my wife and I have attended the funeral of one of our children. Cancer stopped our Izzie's heart just three years ago, and Sara took it probably harder than anyone. I think I'm speaking for my wife and myself today when I say that believing our girls are together again is the only way we'll survive this. Well, that and her beautiful baby boy over there." Sam's tired eyes fell on the baby clinging to Lil's finger in his sleep, and he seemed to draw strength from the sight as he went on; "Izzie never had the chance to start a family, but we are now so thankful that Sara found a love so strong as young as she did. Our little girl deserved so much more out of life but left us with a precious grandson…and a new son. For that, we will always be grateful. I leave you now with her favorite song. As Willie Nelson says, it turns out Sara really was our angel flying too close to the ground." Sam paused and drew in a deep breath, shaking more visibly now as he delivered his final words; "Rest in peace, princess." Then he turned to the small music system beside the podium and hit play, before finally moving back to his seat beside Lil to a smattering of sympathetic applause._

 _Applauding politely with a painful lump in her own throat, Lily heard a sharp intake of breath from beside her. The way her mother hissed her name was unnecessary, for Clay's low moan was all it took to wrench her attention back to him. "No…oh God, please no." Lily turned her head so fast she felt a muscle in her neck pull uncomfortably, but the look on her brother's face made the twinge easy to ignore. From the row behind them, Sara's best friend Jessica leaned forward and attempted to squeeze Clay's shoulders consolingly, but he doubled over before she could reach him, ghostly pale and barely breathing._

 _Lily grimaced over her shoulder at the British girl's distraught expression before devoting her full attention to Clay. "Hey ducky, don't forget to breathe," she urged under her breath. Her hand rubbed circles between his tense shoulder blades while she watched his shuddering fists clenching and unclenching in his lap. "Remember how Dad used to help me through the panic attacks I had as a kid after the dog next door bit me once?" Clay gave no sign that he had heard her; instead, his breathing seemed to come in increasingly shallow and rapid gasps. As her brother teetered on the edge of a complete meltdown, Lily kept talking as soothingly as she could manage with the devastated atmosphere in the room rubbing off on her. "On the count of two, remember?" she coached gently. "Come on, sweetie, in and out. You can do this."_

 _"But it's our thing now," Clay hissed through gritted teeth, turning to face her with despair so deep in his dark blue eyes she couldn't possibly find the words for it. "Mine and hers. And she left me alone…so you're wrong. I actually can't do this, Flo!" With that he wrenched the hand she'd been gently squeezing from her grasp and stumbled towards the entrance of the church, oblivious to the mix of curious and sympathetic stares turning to watch him run out the door._

"Shit," Clay moaned, as every word of the mournful ballad took him back to the day he had lost the one who meant the most to him in the entire world at the time. He was vaguely aware of the slightly confused look on Quinn's face as she watched him from her gently swiveling barstool. But even the girl he owed everything to was impossible to focus on over the sound of Willie Nelson's voice, tearing his heart out with every word he sang. _"Leave me if you need to, I will still remember…angel flying too close to the ground."_ By the time Clay forced his feet to get moving and run as far away from the music as he could, Quinn was shakily standing up and attempting to move towards him. The last thing Clay saw before he fled the decorated gym was Haley rushing towards her tottering sister; then he was tearing down the deserted hallways towards the exit and much needed fresh air.

Out in the school parking lot, Brooke Davis was watching Julian's car pull away with her lips still tingling from the kiss she had given him for luck or courage or whatever the hell that really was. He was right, being just friends was going to be ridiculously hard, but she had brought it on herself with her insecurities over Alex. It was with difficulty that she reminded herself she'd partly denied a ride home with him so that she could help Haley clear up the party. Smiling dreamily in spite of herself, Brooke turned back towards the school building and collided so hard with someone she was nearly knocked off her feet.

"Ouch," she gasped, grabbing the man's hand to keep her balance in the insane eighties-style heels she was wearing. "Sorry, I…Clay?"

A flash of recognition penetrated the tormented look in his eyes and still holding his hand, Brooke felt it shaking when he finally spoke. "Oh God, sorry Brooke, I didn't see you there."

"That's not surprising. Where were you going in such a hurry? The party's that way, you know. Don't tell me you're leaving so soon after all the drama you and Nathan went through to get here. Haley told me the whole story, very impressive." She motioned at the building behind him as she spoke and Clay nodded stiffly, something about his expression was still unreadable. "Hey, are you okay?" she pressed hesitantly.

"Being stupid," he muttered, and she could tell he was trying to look nonchalant, but his eyes told a different story. "The song playing in there threw me for a loop, that's all." The disbelieving look on Brooke's face and her quirked eyebrows made it clear she wasn't going to let him off that easy. But suddenly Clay found he didn't mind her subtle willingness to listen; it was exactly what Quinn would have done if she could currently have moved from that damn barstool. "Quinn got pretty drunk by the time Nate and I got here," he explained, to avoid bringing up the song that had chased him outdoors just yet. "She thought I wouldn't show up and now she's totally hammered, silly girl."

"She was kind of down in the dumps all night," Brooke agreed. "But that doesn't explain what you're doing out here right now. You got something to share with the class, hmm? I know you find it easier to talk to Quinn but I'm pretty sober if you need an ear or something."

"Alex said you left with Julian," Clay pointed out, not missing Brooke's instant frown at the mention of the actress. "I know you have issues with her, but in there she was the only person I could find who could tell me where to find Kylie…long story."

"Mouth's date Kylie?" Brooke asked incredulously, shaking her head when he nodded. "What's your deal with her then?"

"Nothing," said Clay firmly. "Before Quinn came along, I used to sleep with her sometimes, and now she can't wrap her head around not being needed anymore, that's all. I was only looking for her because Grubbs said she was being a bitch to Quinn before I got here. But that really wasn't the point."

"Uh huh," Brooke smirked at him, enjoying his discomfort at the confession far too much. "What was the point, pray tell?"

"The point is that Quinn is now drunk and the reason I'm not with her right now is that the song played at my wife's funeral came on in there," he said in a rush, as if saying it fast would make the emotions stirred by the song feel less painfully intense. "And I just…really needed to get away from that song. Quinn would have understood, but she can't even walk in a straight line right now, and I got embarrassed. So now here I am, losing my cool away from the party, I guess."

The teasing glint in Brooke's eyes faded at his glum tone. "I'm really sorry, Clay, that's horrible." He stiffened for a moment when she drew closer and gave him a hug, finally returning the embrace gingerly. "I'm sure the song's over by now. Do you wanna go back inside together? I really wanted to take off with Julian but leaving Haley to clear up the mess wouldn't have been very fair. To us party planners, the night's still young, you know. Maybe Quinn will have sobered up enough for a last dance by now, if you're lucky."

"I did tell Grubbs to feed her something," Clay admitted. "Are you psychic?"

"No, that would be our buddy Grubbs' job," Brooke laughed; "I just consider myself a good judge of character most of the time. It's obvious you love her, Kylie's just gonna have to get used to that and deal with it."

"Fair enough." Clay offered her his arm as they walked back along the deserted halls to the gym. "Sorry again for practically bulldozing you out there. Thanks for listening. This night almost ended in complete disaster over a damn song, ridiculous."

"Don't mention it," she shrugged. "My night was spent fretting over Alex and Julian, if there's a chance Quinn can still get a dance out of you I definitely want to watch." When he held the heavy gym door open for her, Brooke glided past him finally feeling like her night hadn't been a complete waste after all. "Have fun," she offered as a suggestive parting shot, eyeing Quinn who was standing near the bar with Haley now.

"Thanks, Brooke," he said absently, staring across the room as if Quinn was a magnet to his steely blue eyes. Chatting with her sister one minute, Quinn raised a hand to cut Haley off mid-sentence the next and positively lit up when she saw him. There might as well have been spotlights on the pair of them as she bounded across the dancefloor; suddenly miraculously steady on her feet. "Looks like somebody is feeling better," he said affectionately, and she nodded sheepishly.

"Sorry about that," she said, gesturing over her shoulder at the bar. Clay caught Grubbs grinning at the two of them and smiled back in thanks before turning his attention back to Quinn. "I really thought you wouldn't make it in time. I should never have doubted you. But then you ran, and I got worried again. I thought you bailed, after all, the whole thing is a bit fuzzy."

"Tequila shots tend to have that effect, babe," Clay pointed out, but he suddenly found it a lot harder to smile. "Quinn, I'm so sorry I ran. You deserve better than a knucklehead who can't handle a little Willie Nelson." He paused when her expression practically reflected a confused fog lifting; "Okay, what does that face mean?"

"You ran because of the song? That's all?"

"That's all," Clay echoed. "Isn't that bad enough? It's pathetic!"

Quinn's finger pressed to his lips before he could say another word. "You talk a lot," she giggled, angling her head against his chest, oblivious to his confusion. "That is actually amazing. You know why?"

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me." Clay stroked her carefully crimped curls gently, the relief that she didn't seem angry just making him love her even more. "I think you might still be a little loopy, sweetie."

"I'm not loopy," Quinn argued, frowning up at him in unconvincing annoyance. "Anyway, I'll tell you why it's amazing that it was just the song that bothered you."

"You do that," he prompted, vaguely aware that there was now a Madonna ballad playing over the sound system.

"It means you're not Dan Thomson," said Quinn softly. "Because you're here no matter what and you didn't run or dump me at the last minute. And it just…it means a lot to me, okay?"

"God, I wish I could punch that doucheface," Clay muttered. "And maybe Taylor too, no offense."

"None taken," said Quinn, quickly wiping away the single tear running down her cheek. "I'm definitely too soft sometimes."

"Quinn, I won't leave you, alright?" he promised. He glanced up at the disco ball still glittering above their heads. "After this, you might be the one deciding to dump me, fair warning."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Quinn frowned but then he held out a hand, and her eyes sparkled with delighted comprehension.

"Dance with me, Quinn James?"

Nodding with the biggest smile on her face, she took Clay's hand and let him lead her out into the middle of the dancefloor. Nathan and Haley were involved in their own slow dance once more, but Quinn could sense Alex and Brooke's eyes on her when she placed her hands on Clay's shoulders. "Thank you," she whispered, pressing closer to kiss his lips. She couldn't help smiling into the kiss when she felt his palms shaking as they slid around her waist. "Well well, it looks like butterflies are infectious, huh?"

"Totally," he laughed awkwardly and gestured at the speakers. "Madonna's hitting the nail on the head, go figure."

"If you read my mind, you'll see I'm crazy for you," she whispered the lyrics and smiled up at him. "She really is, you did put insanely in love in Nathan's contract. No mind reading required, is there?"

"Nope," Clay agreed, looking nervously down at his feet. "Now shush, I literally can't talk and dance at the same time if you want to walk away from this with your toes intact."

"Fond as I am of my toes," said Quinn mock-seriously; "I like you a hell of a lot better. We're in the same boat here, relax."

"That is true. You totally saved my job with your epic cheerleading skills," he smirked. "Hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Even super agents need a little help sometimes," she smiled. "If tonight is the thanks I get, I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"Try tonight and tomorrow and the day after that," he corrected her. "I'm a little addicted to you, Quinn James."

"I can live with that," she said seriously and then felt a swooping sensation in her belly when he dipped her without warning. "Whoa, that was very…," she began, falling swiftly silent when his lips pressed against hers. The fluttering in her stomach intensified so much; it was as if the kiss had transferred all his butterflies to her. "Smooth," she gasped, straightening up slowly. "Babe, nervous does not kiss like that, holy shit!"

"Like what?" he said innocently. "Nervous people don't kiss like that, but the insanely in love ones do. You think I made this night special just by being here, but…you saved me, Quinn. You deserve for every day to make you feel special."

"Something tells me that'll happen as long as you're around."

"You bet," he winked and dragged her closer once more. "You wanna take this party back to my place?"

"Not yet," she said softly, both arms around his neck as she resisted the urge to kiss every inch of his face. Cursing the bright red lipstick of eighties fashion, she added simply; "I kind of don't want tonight to end. Unless you're tired or something?"

Clay shook his head, smiling at how sentimental she was without even trying. "For you, I could do this forever. Just keep smiling like that, and you'll literally be my drug by the end of the night."

"Dude, you're totally smooth," she laughed and hugged him tightly. Neither of them had come out and literally said that they loved each other yet, but at that moment she couldn't have felt it more strongly. In the months since he'd opened his front door and his heart to her, it was presumptuous to say that forever existed for them, but she prayed with all her heart that it did.

 **A/N Writing this half made me wish for more Brooke/Clay friendship, shattered my Clara heart and sent the Clinn fluff into overdrive all in one. Enjoy all! xx**


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